


Winged Voices: Birds of Middle-earth

by Himring



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Birds, Cross-cultural, Dwarves, Elves, Gen, Multi-Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:45:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2146104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himring/pseuds/Himring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble sequence written for a sequence of bird prompts at Tolkien Weekly on LiveJournal:<br/>various kinds of cross-overs between the Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings and/or The Hobbit.<br/>The birds get their own say in some, but not all of the drabbles.</p><p>1) Swan: Galadriel & Celeborn; 2) Thrush: Celegorm, Caranthir, Bard; 3) Raven: Caranthir, Dain; 4) Nightingale: Arwen, Daeron; 5) Eagle: Landroval, Meneldor</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ship of Lothlorien

**Author's Note:**

> Ratings: content: General; some of the implications probably Teens.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeborn and Galadriel: a conversation about the present that resonates with the past

_"...sailing proudly down the stream toward them, they saw a swan of great size...and suddenly they perceived it was a ship..."_  
 _(Farewell to Lorien, FotR)_  
  
‘In the shape of a swan?’ asked Celeborn.  
He had not kept the doubt out of his voice, he saw. His wife’s chin went up.  
‘You consider it inappropriate?’ she asked dangerously. ‘Am I not the daughter of Earwen?’  
‘None would deny you the right!  I merely wonder at the wish. Do the memories not pain you still?’  
‘It was not my own idea,’ Galadriel confessed. ‘It is the ship of Cirnur’s dreams—and I am Teler enough to dream swans with him, Noldo enough to encourage a brilliant young craftsman. Also, he admires me…’  
She smiled crookedly at Celeborn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galadriel's mother Earwen was also called the Swan Maiden of Alqualonde.   
> As for the Kinslaying of Alqualonde, whichever version of Galadriel's story you follow, as her Noldorin and Telerin relatives fought and killed each other there in a struggle over the Telerin swan ships, which were subsequently destroyed, swan ships cannot have had entirely happy associations for her.  
> "Cirnur" is supposed to be a Sindarized form of Quenya Ciryandur "ship servant" (because that was the best I could do for a name).


	2. Troubling with Thrush Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those ancient, magical thrushes of Dale--they could have had a long history.
> 
> First Age: Caranthir, son of Feanor, Celegorm, son of Feanor;   
> Third Age: Bard the Bowman

Caranthir and Celegorm are walking along the shore of Lake Helevorn. Celegorm stops to talk to a thrush knocking a snail on a stone. The thrush cocks its head curiously and replies.  
‘Honestly, Turko,’ growls Caranthir. ‘Must you talk to every bird in every bush?’  
But his brother, whose temper at other times is as hasty as his own, looks relaxed, almost at peace, using the skills Orome taught him in Valinor, so Caranthir growls only very softly.  
  
 _Ages later, Lake Town burning all around them, a thrush flutters onto Bard’s shoulder and brings him news of Smaug’s weak spot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I don't suppose there are any people left there that trouble with thrush-language" (Bilbo, "Inside Information", The Hobbit)


	3. Bothering with the Speech of Dwarf and Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and so also could the ravens of Erebor!
> 
> Following directly on from the previous drabble.
> 
> First Age: Caranthir, Son of Feanor.  
> Third Age: Dain Ironfoot

The Dwarven trade delegation has departed; Caranthir feels the strain of tense negotiation ease. Looking up, he sees a single guest remains. On the branch above sits a raven, looking down.  
‘What would you?’ asks Caranthir. ‘I’m Caranthir, not my brother—Caranthir. I do not talk to birds, nor birds to me.’  
But the raven opens his beak. ‘Caranthir!’ he croaks. ‘Caranthir!’  
  
 _Wearied by long flight, Carc Roacsson reaches the Iron Hills and reports to Dain._  
 _‘I will not say if Thorin’s counsel be good,’ he croaks._  
 _‘I hear what you do not say,’ answers Dain, yet readies for war.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carc, the Third Age raven in this drabble, is the canonical Carc's grandson. I thought the names "Carc" and "Roac" might run in the family.


	4. To Music of a Voice Unseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arwen is like Luthien, we know.  
> Not only in Aragorn's eyes, but also in the eyes of those who have actually seen Luthien.  
> Arwen lays a ghost--no, not exactly a ghost...
> 
>  

Arwen awoke because she heard the nightingale sing—or maybe did not wake, but she got out of bed, climbing through the window onto the terrace, wandering through the warm summer night, following its call, until she came to a glade she had never seen before—or maybe it just looked unfamiliar in the moonlight… As she strayed among the hemlocks, the song started again, but this time she knew it was not a bird.  
She danced, he sang, hours together, until she stopped.  
‘Luthien!’ he sobbed, ‘Tinuviel!’  
‘Not I,’ answered Arwen.’But you, you are Daeron. Go now! Be free…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is adapted from Aragorn's song about Luthien and Beren.  
> It was Daeron who piped for Luthien as she danced in Doriath and who later betrayed her confidence and went wandering, lamenting her loss.


	5. In Long Swift Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eagles are coming!  
> Their own point of view on events, from the First Age to the end of the War of the Ring...

‘Ours is a proud heritage,’ the Eagle mother told her brood, ‘for our ancestor, Thorondor, bore elven princes away through the fumes of Angband to safety, yea, he snatched the fallen king’s body from the grasp of Morgoth himself! And even I, his lesser descendant, helped to rescue dwarves from orcs and from fire. Fili was the name of the youngling I carried…’  
  
 _‘Fly on!’ cries Landroval, urgently. Meneldor, buffeted right and left by the tumultuous winds of the eruption of Orodruin, remembers his mother’s words, takes courage and darts down through hot ash, snatching Sam’s body up and away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There came Gwaihir the Windlord, and Landroval his brother, greatest of all the Eagles of the North, mightiest of the descendants of old Thorondor, who built his eyries in the inaccessible peaks of the Encircling Mountains when Middle-earth was young. Behind them in long swift lines came all their vassals from the northern mountains..."
> 
> ("The Field of Cormallen", RotK)


End file.
